


Skill

by InaliaFox



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Autobots - Freeform, Lost Light, M/M, Medical, More tags to be added, Robots, Rung - Freeform, Transformers - Freeform, idw - Freeform, more than meets the eye, ratchet - Freeform, skill, spike play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InaliaFox/pseuds/InaliaFox
Summary: Rung admires Ratchets skills with his servos. Ratchet shows the mech just how skilled they truly are.
Relationships: Ratchet/Rung
Kudos: 29





	Skill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vampyremelayah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampyremelayah/gifts).



He was sitting in his chair, looking over case files. It was nothing new, the same routine every solar cycle. Bots came and went. Once their session was over, they no longer had any reason to stay. 

He was always alone, always forgotten. No one ever stayed, or ever cared to remember him. He often wondered, if it would just be best for him to leave and never look back.

No.

He couldnt do that. He cared far too much about the crew, about his patients to do that. He flicked his digit over the pad, moving to the next file before exventing a soft sigh, leaning his helm back and closing his optics.

Would things ever change? 

He liked the routine, he was *comfortable* with it....but he wanted *more.* He wanted some excitement, something unknown to happen. However, even if it did, it wasnt likely to happen to him.

~

His optics onlined after hearing a *thud*. Shuttering them, he looked down to see a datapad. He must have been holding it? Had...had he fallen asleep?

Standing to stretch, Rung flinched a bit. He was stiff and sore. It figured he would be, considering he slept in his chair, and not in the berth where he could stretch out.

He heard an odd *pop* and immediately stopped mid stretch. Maybe it was nothing? Moving to lower himself he gasped, optics closing tightly as pain lanced through his spinal struts. Nope, that was definitly *something.* A quick trip to the medbay, and things would be fine. Rung was lucky, at times like these, that the medbay was so close to his office.

~

Even though the medbay was so close, it took the orange mech some time to get there. He was limping slightly and had to resort to resting on the wall as he walked. 

The medbay doors opened and once he moved in, he stopped in the doorway, leaning on the frame as he looked around.

“Ratchet?”

It almost seemed empty, however he knew that wasnt the case. The medic could always be found here, but perhaps this time he was in one of the back rooms?

Klicks passed and nothing. No movement, no sounds...nothing. Rung sighed as he moved to leave, flinching at the pain that rippled through him. He would have fallen and hit the floor if it wasnt for a pair of servos that wrapped around his lower torso and stopped him from doing so.

“Rung? Whats going on?”

Rungs face flushed as he felt the arms tighten around him, pulling him back on his pedes. He hadnt see any sign of Ratchet, so how did the medic sneak up on him like this?

“Something seems to be wrong with my back. I was hoping maybe you could help?”

It was no more than a nervous squeak as he was still trying to recover from the surprise Ratchet caught him by.

“Can you walk?”

“I dont kn-..”

With one fluid motion, he felt his peds leave the ground as he was met with Ratchets face close above his own. His frame flush against the front of Ratchets. The medics servos gently gripping his shoulder and under his legs. 

Instinctively, Rung leaned against him. His own servo finding rest on the medics chest as his face flushed slightly.

Why was he embarrassed?! He shouldnt be! Ratchet was just carrying him to the medical berth to examine him, nothing more!

Within a few nano clicks, Ratchet had moved across the medbay and gently laid Rung down on the medical berth.

Rung watched as Ratchet moved around gathering some supplies. He stopped once he made it back to the berthside, a cable in servo as he looked to Rung.

“May I?”

His panel slid open, allowing Ratchet access to his port. With a soft click, Ratchet plugged the cable in as Rungs readings showed up on the screen. Quietly, the medic ran a diagnostic to see what all was going on with the little mech.

Rung couldnt deny it, he was nervous. He had no idea why though. Was it because he was worried something was truly wrong with him, or, was it something else? However, he couldnt bring himself to look away from Ratchet.

Ratchet was quiet for quite sometime, which only added to Rungs nervousness.

“Is there something wrong?” Of course there was! He couldnt walk without pain coursing through his system!

“Not unusually so.” Ratchet began as he moved to unhook the cable from Rung. His face was still as unchanging as ever as he offered a servo to the smaller mech, helping him to stand. Rung flinched slightly when his pede hit the floor, but soon found Ratchets arm wrapping around his waist. The medics free serve moved to his hip, his grip tightening as his digits began a somewhat hard circular rubbing motion that moved inward towards his backstruts. Rung began to melt as the pressure gradually increased.

“You need to take better care of yourself. Falling into recharge while you’re sitting up in a chair isnt good for you Rung.”

He leaned back into the medics hold, his engine rumbling somewhat happily. He was so focused on Ratchets servos, that not much else was registering in his processor. At least, not until Ratchet moved over his lower back strut and pushed in hard, eliciting a loud pop and whine filled jerk from the little psychiatrist. 

“Perhaps I only wished to find a reason to visit. I find you servos are *more* than skilled, for any subjecy.”

At the movement, Ratchet tightened his hold around Rungs hips and pulled the mech flush against his frame. Rung could hear a faint snarl from the medics own engine, but it was so low, he thought he’d imagined it. Rung couldnt help himself as he let himself melt back into Ratchets touch. The medic didnt stop, however. He continued to rub gently at the tender protoform under Rungs metal frame, and the smaller mech couldnt help but lose himself in the feeling.

“Mmhm.”

“Forgive me Rung, you’re more tense than I thought and I can not willingly let you leave until you’ve been taken care of.”

The servo wrapped around his waist began to move, stopping above his spark. It wasnt good for him, to be so carefree. To let his gaurd down like this, but frag Ratchets touch felt good. The medics other servo moved along his protoform, rubbing, dipping into any seam it could as it rested over Rungs interface panel.

“I- I dont know if Ive ever told you how amazing *I* think your servos are, Ratchet.”

*Primus* how long had it been? 

He let out a low whine as Ratchet dipped his own helm into the crook of Rungs neck.

“Oh?” The medic let out a low chuckle that caused his cables to tingle.

Rungs processor wasn’t functioning right. He had just come in for a simple repair! How was it that *this* is what was happening?! Though, he couldnt complain. It was nice to be touched, to feel wanted like this.

“You don’t even know their full capabilities yet.” 

There was a low growl from the medic as he nipped at the cables at Rungs neck. Tilting his helm, he offered better access to all his sensitive wiring as his panel popped open, a light blue blush racing across his face as his spike pressurized. 

Ratchet had waisted no time in engulfing Rungs spike with his servo. Rung could feel the medics digits tighten around him, yet, the touch was somehow still soft and gentle, causing his frame to shutter. With an almost eager haste, Ratchet began pumping his servo. Each time he would move along Rungs spike, he would allow his grip to tighten, then loosen again and again. 

Rung could already feel the transfluid beading at the tip. Leaning back into Ratchet he shuttered one of his optics open, looking at the medic from the corner. He was smiling, trailing Rungs neck with a flurry of kisses leading to his jaw, then his cheek before he pulled back, his optics locking with Rungs.

“If anyone knows at this point -ngh- I think it would be me..*ahhh*..” 

Ratchet increased his speed, pumping Rungs spike eagerly. Each moan, each gasp from the smaller orange mech only seemed to cause Ratchet to speed up. To tighten his grip as his other servo dipped into the transformation seems around Rungs spark.

“S-slag Im going to...” He had forgotten his manners, his professionalism. The only reason he was still standing, frame trembling in sheer pleasure as it was, was because of Ratchet gripping the psychiatrist tightly to him. 

Rung struggled to look at Ratchet as his servo moved up, grasping the one Ratchet held over his spark. He could see Ratchet smiling as the mech exvented, moaning as his own charge rippled through him. It was a good look on the medic.

*”Ngh....R-Ratchet!!”*

He couldnt hold out anymore. Between feeling like this for the first time in ages, having Ratchets skilled servos on him, and the combination of noises flowing from the medic, Rung broke. His servo tightly grasping at Ratchets as the medic tightened his hold on Rung. His servo still pumping thouroughly through the smaller mechs overload, transfluid spilling from his spike. 

All the while, Rung couldnt find himself able to tear his optics from Ratchets face. 

They stood there as the nano-klicks went by. Both venting heavily as Ratchets servo moved from under Rungs, to the side of his helm. He tilted Rungs face back towards him, both smiling as their mouths met.

When they finally pulled apart, fans spooling, trying to cool their heated frames, Rung laughed.

“You’re servos are truly skilled. They have never ceased to amaze me. Though, I do believe they could use some more practice. Id be a willing patient, if need be.”

Ratchet chuckled, pulling Rung back with him as he sat on the edge of the medical berth, resting Rung in his lap.

“I think that can be arranged.”


End file.
